


The Best Medicine

by Melanie_b



Category: Kabby fandom, The 100
Genre: Doctor - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, References to Friends (TV), hint of smut, patient, s6 au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 07:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20792588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melanie_b/pseuds/Melanie_b
Summary: Set in an alternative s6 where none of the shit on the show happened. Marcus is feeling poorly and Abby is looking after him.Credit to the Friends writers for the lines taken from Friends.





	The Best Medicine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marcusgriffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marcusgriffin/gifts).

> This is for Justine, one of the brightest lights in the Kabby fandom, who also happens to be a huge Friends fan and has just had a horrible cold. I love her to bits and hope this brings a smile to her face after a horrible week.

Marcus Kane doesn’t know what’s hit him.

He’s no stranger to pain. He’s been shot, stabbed, beaten, bitten, branded and burnt. He’s even been crucified for God’s sake, although he tries not to dwell on that because he knows Abby feels a tad guilty about it, no matter how many times he reassures her that nailing your boyfriend to a cross while under the influence of an AI does  _ not  _ make you a bad person. 

But he’s never known suffering like this, and he can’t for the life of him think what he’s done to deserve it. He’s tried not to antagonise any psychopaths or fall foul of any adopted teenage daughters for at least a month but nope. Fate has singled him out for this particular bout of agony.

He’s got a  _ cold,  _ dammit. And it’s the worst thing EVER. 

His nose is bunged up, his throat is sore, his head aches and every time he coughs he feels like he’s going to lose a lung. He’s producing copious amounts of thick green mucous which he swears must be radioactive judging by the colour of it. It’s  _ gross.  _

He blows his nose again, noisily and messily, and chucks the tissue on the floor where it sits with twenty-seven other bits of screwed up tissue containing the hideous fluorescent gunk.

The nose-blowing takes it out of him, and he falls back onto his pillow in exhaustion. He tries to swallow to see if his throat still feels like he’s been eating razor blades in his sleep and is stunned to discover an entirely new pain altogether. Somebody is sticking a red hot needle in his ear, which is nice. 

He also has another, unassociated problem. He’s  _ horny,  _ but Abby is refusing to have sex with him until his body stops expunging green stuff from every orifice. Which is silly, because he’s pretty sure sex with Abby is exactly what his body needs to stop expunging green stuff from every orefice.

He’s tried convincing her that sex is the best medicine but she’s not having any of it.

“That’s laughter, Marcus. Not sex.”

“You can laugh if you like. I won’t be offended.”

She really does laugh then, and bends to kiss his head before leaving the room, leaving him picturing the swell of her breasts above her top and feeling hornier than ever. The woman is a  _ tease,  _ he thinks in frustration.

He lies in bed and stares at the ceiling, feeling sorry for himself. This is misery like he’s never known before and as far as he’s concerned, death can’t come soon enough. 

The door opens again and Abby comes in, and his heart lifts. She’s the best doctor in the world, he’s sure she’ll have some brilliant cure to make him feel better.  _ Nobody  _ should have to feel this bad.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, perching next to him on the bed and feeling his forehead. 

“Bedder now you’re here,” he replies with a happy smile but his voice is raspy and his nose is blocked and he sounds like a farting frog when he speaks. 

“I have some medicine for you. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Gread.” He smiles in relief. He knew she would. 

“It’s a nasal spray.”

_ A what? _

“A whad?”

“A nasal spray.”

“Please tell me it doesn’t involve spraying something up by doze.”

“Of course. It’ll clear your airways.”

“Abby, there’s no room up by doze for anything. It’s already full of gunk.”

She chuckles and her eyes crease up all adorably. God he loves her when she does that. 

“Come here,” she says. “I’ll do it for you.”

“ _ No _ .” It comes out more like  _ dough _ but he thinks she’s got the gist.

“Marcus…” she tilts her head on the side warningly, like she’s talking to a disobedient dog. He decides two can play at that game and gives her his best puppy eyes. 

“I don’t deed it Abby. I’m find.”

“Marcus, if you’re putting a D on the end of fine, you’re not fine.”

“I’m finnnnn,” he says, trying his hardest not to put a D on the end of fine. 

“Okay.” She puts the nasal spray back in her pocket and he congratulates himself silently on his victory. “But you know, there’s no sex until you’re better, so….”

She purses her lips and looks at him wide-eyed, and he curses himself, and then he curses her, because she can run rings around him every time and he knows that’s one of the things he loves about her but  _ godammit.  _ He doesn’t want that thing up his doze.

She gets up to leave and he panics. “Don’t go!”

“I have other patients to see Marcus. If you’re fine, you don’t need me.”

“I do. I do. I feel terrible.” He grits his teeth. “I want the dasal spray. Please.”

“Oh okay.” She sits back down and takes the spray out of her pocket, then pops the cap off and places it in his left nostril.

“Ready? I’ll spray after three. One, two -“

The spray shoots up his nose like a geyser and into his brain before trickling down his throat and making him cough.

“You said three!” he splutters.

“Sorry,” she says innocently. “You know math was never my forte.”

He glares at her.

“Other nostril?” she says brightly.

“After three, though. No more of this “I can’t count,” business.”

“Okay.” She places the spray in his right nostril, and he screws his eyes up tightly, bracing himself.

She bursts out laughing. “Marcus, I’m not giving you a goddamn  _ lobotomy.  _ It’s just a bit of water.”

“Just do it, you evil woman.”

“Okay, here we go. One, two, three.”

The second spray is worse than the first and he thinks his head might explode with all the liquid in it. He coughs, and splutters and chokes and wheezes. Tears stream down his face and and he feels a humongous sneeze coming on. He gestures wildly for a tissue and she puts one into his hand and when he sneezes he thinks he must have lost part of his frontal lobe at least. 

He wipes his nose and his eyes and then smiles up at her in wonder. Her beautiful dark eyes are full of love and laughter and his heart fills with joy. He really is the luckiest man in the world. 

“How do you feel now?” 

“Better,” he says, and he’s surprised to hear a T instead of a D.

“See? I told you so. I’m always right.” She strokes his beard tenderly and leans in to kiss him softly on the mouth. 

And that really is the best medicine. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
